Regulus sent a letter last week. It was so much shorter than usual, and Pandora could see his hands shaking as he wrote it. He sent the letter then disappeared and left her. She clung to the last bits of him, proof he was good, proof he didn’t die for Voldemort. Proof he was doing this to be a good person. Proof he was actually alive. Pandora got lost in memories so often now. She lived through them again and again but this time there was deep rooted hurt because she knew that their time together would be cut short. She remembered the last time she gave him a hug. He hadn’t even shoved her off as he normally would have. He didn’t tell her to fuck off. He just hugged her back after a moment's hesitation. She wished she had noticed. She wished she had seen something was wrong. She wished that she was enough for him to stay instead of being a stupid sacrificial prick.
Regulus sent a letter last week and that was the last she ever heard from him. That was the last anyone ever heard of him. She saw Barty slipping further and further away. She saw Evan cling to bottles and death. She saw how she stayed in bed for longer and longer. She saw how she hovered near Xenophilius whenever she could. She saw how she was writing to her friends more often. They rarely replied and it hurt. They rarely replied because it hurt.
Regulus was declared missing 5 days ago. He’ll be declared dead in a couple months if he doesn’t show up soon. Pandora doesn’t think she’ll be able to handle that. She doesn’t want the permanence of death. She wants to be able to cling to the slim hope that he’ll come back. The hope she doesn’t really believe in but tells herself she does just to give herself some semblance of comfort. Xenophilius doesn’t really understand why she’s so distraught. He doesn’t understand why she’s so upset over a death eater. He doesn’t understand what she saw in him. He doesn’t see what she Sees. Pandora doesn’t want to give him the letter. It feels too personal. It feels like the last words he’s ever said and she doesn’t want to share it. She doesn’t want to share him. She doesn’t want other people poking around his life, his mind. She doesn’t want people disrespecting him in his death as so many have in his life. She vowed to protect that cold, scared, angry boy until she died. She failed so now she’ll protect his memory. She’ll spread happy memories and never bring up his pain. Or the pain he’s caused. She’ll never forget the hurt spread by him though, no. It’s too important, it’s a part of him, an ugly part of him but it’s valuable. Every part of him is valuable.
She finds herself baking strawberry shortcake nearly every day. He loved strawberry shortcake. She saves him a slice of every one. She knows he isn’t coming back but she doesn’t care. When he’s pronounced dead she’ll bring the slices to his grave. Let the wildlife eat them. Let them fade into the earth. Regulus loved nature. Regulus loved watching birds and foxes and cats. He held compassion for even the smallest insect. The version of him gently helping a spider outside fought valiantly against the version of him lighting houses on fire. The version of him with an ugly tattoo marring his skin. How did her lovely boy become so lost? She thought she was saving him but he was just drowning her with him. Not on purpose though. Never on purpose. He would never hurt her. He tried and tried to help her, to keep himself from hurting her, little did he know he was slowly killing her. Breaking her heart into a million pieces.
Regulus sent a letter and that was the last she ever heard from him